AGAINST HOPE
by: PEBBLES
Part 8
~~^~~^~~^~~^~~^~~
Kerry felt the
ground lurch under her feet and the next thing she knew she was
in the arms of Sergeant Crosby, who had evidently caught her
before she hit the ground. He lowered her down gently and she
stuck her head down between her knees.
“I’m so
sorry. I don’t normally do this.” Kerry
mumbled from under her hair, mortified to show such weakness.
“That’s
Okay, my dear. You’ve had a bit of a shock.”
His tone was patronising, even if he meant well.
“I deal with
trauma every day of my life!” Kerry’s voice rose
to a squeak as she pulled herself back to her feet again, only
leaning harder on her crutch than usual.
“I’m
sure you do, my dear, but it’s not generally someone your
fond of.” There wasn’t much Kerry could say to
this, as it was painfully true.
Constable
Bradley, shouting from the Range Rover, interrupted them. “I’ve
got confirmation that Culdrose has got a Sea King airborne.
ETA in ten minutes!”
“God bless
the Royal Navy!” Crosby slapped Kerry vigorously on the back
before switching on his RT set to relay the news to the team down
below.
As he was
speaking, there was a sound of footsteps on the road and Doug
shuffled into view, wrapped in a foil blanket. “Any
chance of a cup of tea?” He managed a grin before
Carol pulled him into a tearful embrace.
“I’m so
sorry Doug! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She
murmured into his shoulder.
“Don’t
worry about it, sweetheart. I’m fine – and I
should be sor—” He was cut off by Kerry.
“What the
hell have you done, Doug Ross?” Her voice cut through
the air like a banshee’s shriek. “What did you do
to him?”
“Hey, calm
down Kerry!” Doug turned to face her. Seeing
that she was deathly white and her hands were trembling, he
lowered his voice and made to take hold of her arms.
She lurched back
from him. “Get away from me!”
“Kerry, just
take it easy.” Doug stood still, resisting the urge to
try and touch her again. “Luka’s going to be
fine. He fell down the ravine and landed in the stream.
I… I did what I could for him and now he’s being taken
care of.”
Satisfied that
she had taken this in, Doug hung his head and shuffled his feet a
little. “I’m sorry I was a complete asshole
before. I… Well, this is no excuse…
I just didn’t realise what a good friend he had been to
Carol. He’s a terrific guy, you know.”
He looked up at Kerry from under is brow like a naughty
schoolboy. This kind of thing had never cut any ice with
Kerry and it certainly wasn’t going to do so now.
“Well, you
should have found out a bit more about him before you started
jumping to conclusions!” She retorted.
“Yes, I know
Kerry. I’m trying to apologise.” He was
really far too tired to be getting into a shouting match with
Kerry now. Turning to Sergeant Crosby he asked, “Where’s
that chopper got to? Shouldn’t it be here by now?”
“It’s
on its way, Dr Ross. Why don’t you get on back to the
hotel now and get yourself a hot bath and some dry clothes.
We’ve got this covered here.” Crosby could see
that the tension between the two doctors was not helping the
situation.
~~^~~^~~^~~^~~^~~
Below them, in
the ravine, John Carter was listening anxiously to his British
colleague who was talking to Crosby on the RT. Thank God
the helicopter was on its way at last! Luka’s body
could not stand being out here in the cold much longer.
He looked
down at the older man who was completely wrapped in foil heating
blankets with only his face exposed to the night air. It
was hard to believe that only four hours ago he had been dancing
at Mark and Elizabeth’s wedding with Kerry Weaver in his
arms. Now he lay out under the cold November sky – his
body bruised and broken.
“We can move
him up to the top now.” The British doctor interrupted
John’s thoughts.
“What’s
the ETA?” John was still concerned about moving Luka
and running the risk of causing cardiac dysrhythmia.”
“Ten minutes
– and the Navy boys carry a portable defibrillator. They’re
well used to dealing with hypothermia, seeing as they pull most
of their customers out of the sea!”
“Yes, of
course. So, couldn’t they winch the patient directly
up from here then?” As he spoke, John took in the
landscape of trees around them and realised that he was just
clutching at straws.
“Believe me,
you don’t want to subject your patient to a ride on a winch
unless it can be avoided. He’ll have a far smoother
ride with the four of us carrying him and we ought to start now
if were to get up there in ten.”
John started to
arrange the IV drip for the journey, totally accepting the advice
of the local man. Very carefully, they slipped the
stretcher under Luka and, on three, they lifted him off the
ground. Then they made their way cautiously towards the
road. The grass was slippery and littered with scattered
rocks and bounders. John regretted not changing out of his
dress shoes as he struggled to keep his feet from sliding under
him.
It was slow
going, as each man had to find his footing in the moonlight.
However, they managed to keep the stretcher fairly steady,
avoiding any sudden jerks. Just as they gained sight of the
police vehicles, there was a roaring in the air and the
helicopter’s lights could be seen approaching from the west.
~~^~~^~~^~~^~~^~~
When Kerry saw
the party carrying Luka approach she found that, for one long
agonising moment, her feet were rooted to the spot. For
some time, she had been wondering how she was going to talk her
way on board the helicopter but, as Carter came closer, she acted
without thinking.
“May I?”
Was all she said, before unwrapping the stethoscope from his
neck. Her eyes were fixed on Luka’s pale countenance
so she didn’t see the look of puzzlement that crossed Carter’s
face. She hung it round her own neck – the feel of it
giving her back the confidence, which had recently abandoned her.
As the stretcher
was deftly loaded aboard the grounded Sea King, Kerry, not once
relinquishing her grip on it, climbed in after. To the
winch man’s puzzled glance, she responded: “Will
there be room for Dr Carter? I’d be very grateful for
his assistance here.”
Glances were
exchanged by all present but Kerry, already aboard, had the
advantage. “There’s room for one more.”
The winch-man stated baldly. The British doctor stepped
back.
“You can
handle it from here. Good luck!” He added with
good grace.
~~^~~^~~^~~^~~^~~
The flight lasted
less then ten minutes, during which time they had been able to
intubate Luka, replace the chemical heating packs with fresh ones
and get a core temperature reading. Kerry was disturbed to
learn that it had dropped to 31 degrees.
“To be
honest, Kerry, I thought it might be even lower.” Carter
gave her a friendly rub on her back. “Now, at least,
we can start to warm him properly.” He had to break
off the conversation as the doors opened and the roar of the
engines drowned out all other sounds. Together, they
trotted alongside the gurney, barely taking in the layout of the
strange hospital. Brief introductions were exchanged but no
comments made as to their status in the foreign ER.
At last, they
arrived in the trauma room where John and Kerry stood back,
allowing their British colleagues to do their job. Blood
was taken for cross matching whilst warmed humidified oxygen was
administered via the endotracheal tube. Heat lamps were set
up and all Luka’s vitals checked again.
The doctor in
charge, who had earlier been introduced as Dr Booth, turned to
Kerry. “I want to accelerate the warming process
so we can get him up to surgery a.s.a.p.” He turned
back to his team. “Set up warmed gastric and thoracic
lavage – 500ml per minute.”
“What about
full body immersion?” Carter ventured.
“I’ve
considered that. But I think we can achieve a gain of at
least 4 degrees an hour with this technique and we can start to
replace with his own blood type and prep him for surgery. We
couldn’t do any of that with a complete immersion.”
Booth sounded very confident and both John and Kerry began to
relax a little.
“Have you
got a vascular surgeon on stand-by?” Kerry’s
voice was now back to its usual authoritative tone.
As Booth turned
to answer her, there was a screeching sound from the
heart-monitoring machine. “He’s going into V-Fib!”
End of Part 8
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